


Hedge Maze of Algorithms

by MountainDont



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Brief mentions of mental disorders, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MountainDont/pseuds/MountainDont
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do synths fall in love?” Nora asked suddenly, and Nick seemed so taken aback by the question that he had to consider it for a moment.</p>
<p>“Depends on whether or not that particular synth was programmed with the ability, I guess,” he said. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Because you remind me of a love poem.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hedge Maze of Algorithms

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to write some Nora/Nick stuff fam. Can you blame me? I mean he's such a qt3.14 and I can't help how much I adore him. #protectnick2k16
> 
> Wrote this over the course of like, three days, which is hard for me to do. My writing "voice" changes every single time I write so to keep up with this kind of flow was very difficult. So I'm sorry for any shift in tone that you may see. Plz forgive me senpai ;~;

Halfway through the Commonwealth and she realized that despite what he said and how his body decomposed against the weather and harshness of the post-apocalypse –

– Nick Valentine was not synthetic.

Not in the way people conventionally thought of it, at least. The way he looked at her, and the way he listened when she was down and just needed an ear to hear her, he was so _genuine_ and it meant so much to her. Everything about him was just as real as any other man in her life. He may not have been as flamboyant as Hancock, but he was as alive. He may not have been as persistent as Preston, but he was determined. He may not have been there as long as Nate, but –

– but Nora wasn’t going to go down that road.

Instead, she silenced her mind with another shot of whisky and lit up her third cigarette in a row. Her breath felt stale by now but she didn’t care. She wanted an escape from the guilt and the guilty pleasure, and she figured stale was just one step away from uncomfortably numb. And that was as far as she could get here, lest she wanted to sacrifice it all by living in vulnerability. But when he rested his metal hand on hers and said, “Maybe you should call it quits for the night, doll,” she felt her resolve weaken and her shoulders slump and strength be damned, he had a way of exposing her weak spots.

Nora could fell her gaze get wet when she looked at him. Distance between them, though they were so close. Through the solid parts of him and neglecting all the exposed wire. That’s how she stared at him. It never once made him uncomfortable, how she looked at him with that faraway, dazed expression. Nora didn’t understand how he never got unnerved by a woman wrecked with shock, anxiety, and depression. She saw him for the first time every time – but she knew how it must have looked to passersby. _What a rude woman, judging the precious synth detective who only wants to help. Why does she look at him like that? Why does she stare so harshly at him?_

Nora was not the only one who wanted to protect Nick, despite how he needed no protection and it was precisely that which – which. Yes. Just which. Because she’d already decided that she _wasn’t going to go down that road_. Nora licked her plump lips and turned her attention back to the shot glass in her fingers. Nick’s metal digits wrapped around her wrist, and he gently pried the glass away from her. She didn’t fight him. How could she? From the first time she’d met him, she knew she’d lose if she ever got into it with him. She wasn’t weak, but he was so beyond her in every way imaginable. There was a gentleness to him that was impossible to go against – but if you ever managed it, his sharp wit and even sharper tongue would make sure you felt so insignificant that any thought of getting physical fled in fear. It was the essence of Nick Valentine – a gentle soul who cared, but somehow also scared despite himself. Maybe it was him being a synth. But Nora figured it mostly had to do with his mind.

A beautiful hedge maze of algorithms that, with some tender weeding and gentle rain, could grow beyond the sphere of self-loathing that the detective had built for himself.

“I’m running,” Nora said at last, and Nick never let go.

“I can tell,” he replied. “From what?”

“Myself, I guess.” She let out a shaky breath. “Every day I wake up and see what kind of world I live in now. It used to be so green and so full of family, but now it’s all gone. And somehow I’m still here. Maybe it’s my fault, Nick. Maybe I deserved this.” He lit up a cigarette with one skilled hand. The other still rested on hers. The metal was cold, but it comforted her. He just listened as she spoke, just as he always did. “I used to be so normal, you know? Hell, I used to be beautiful. And now look at me.” She scoffed bitterly, gestured to the scar on her arm and wishing she’d never got this stupid haircut that was more popular with raiders than it was citizens of Diamond City. Nick looked at her.

Distance, despite how they had none between them. Looked right through, ignoring the healing bullet hole in her waist and the scarred cut on her lip. He stared at her like that. As if he looked at her for the first time every time. “Hell, I still see a beautiful dame when I look at you.” And Nora’s heart broke because the sentiment was so nauseatingly platonic.

A comfort and nothing more.

And god, she wanted more.

“Do you?” she asked, despite herself. Because she desperately wanted the validation. Desperately wanted to feel like the woman she used to be. Not the savage brute she’d become, all in the name of survival.

“Sure,” Nick replied. “Takes a hell of a woman to do the things you do. Any girl who goes out of her way to help others and treats people like equals is beautiful in my book. ‘Course, so far, you’re the only one that fits that criteria.”

“Do synths fall in love?” Nora asked suddenly, and Nick seemed so taken aback by the question that he had to consider it for a moment.

“Depends on whether or not that particular synth was programmed with the ability, I guess,” he said. “Why?”

“Because you remind me of a love poem.” Nora stood, and his hand fell gently from hers. She headed away from the bar and to the cheap room she’d rented for the night. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

* * *

E.E. Cummings wrote some of Nora’s favorite poetry. She’d always had a hard time understanding it, and she found herself grateful for it now. Nick was also hard to figure out, which was strange. He was such a simple man. Honest. Never lied or tried to mislead her. Never hid things from her. But something about him seemed so obscure. She’d never encountered a man like him before. He just wanted to be around her without any other sort of motive.

Nora sat next to Hancock. They enjoyed cigarettes and laughed about the dumb shit going on in the Commonwealth. Once their laughter died, Nora lie on her back to watch the sky. Behind their backs, Sanctuary rested peacefully in the night. “I’m in love with Nick.”

Hancock let out a low whistle through his thin lips and lit up another cigarette. Chain smokers building links between them. “Don’t get me wrong. I got a thing for robots too, but damn. You sure he can return that?”

“I haven’t asked.” She brushed a dead leaf off her thigh. “Nate’s dead.”

“Yeah. Just means you can’t cheat on him now.”

“You think it’s possible to be in love with more than one person in your life?”

“Sister, I never believed in love at all.” Hancock leaned back on his elbows, and something about his tone indicated a well-hidden lie. “But I always believed in pursuing what you feel is right. Doesn’t matter if it’s right for a moment or for a lifetime.”

Nora considered that for a moment and slowly sat up to look behind her. She saw flickering lights in a few of the houses. Not sure what she was looking for, Nora turned her attention back up to the sky. Nick was always awake. It was dumb of her to try to find an excuse in hoping he’d be asleep. “I can’t handle the rejection.”

“You don’t make a move, your entire time with him is rejection.”

Nora sighed. “You’re right,” she said, and she finally stood up. “I’m gonna go to bed. Oh, and Hancock?”

“Hm?”

“I know you promised her, but no giving Mama Murphy chems, okay?” She left the ghoul mayor in silence and went back to her home to sleep for the remainder of the night.

* * *

Nora rarely dreamed in color anymore, but when she did, she always remembered what her dreams were about. This particular night, for example, had been especially vivid. Rain falling on her face while Nick’s metal fingers tangled in her hair. It got caught in the hinges of his digits and she laughed when he apologized – kissed his cheek and when he smiled, she did too. Her hands wrapped themselves up in his stupid detective coat and pulled him closer and

Nora woke up sobbing.

She knew, from the moment she woke up, that she wasn’t alone. That gentle touch to her shoulder, the hand stroking her hair, the faint smell of cigarettes and dust – all signs pointed to Nick and they were bright, neon, and screamed “VACANCIES” at her in blinking red letters. Nora grabbed the hand on her shoulder and pulled until he got the hint. Slowly, Nick climbed into bed behind her and wrapped an arm around the woman’s shaking form until she calmed down. Nora fell asleep again in peace.

* * *

“We gonna talk about last night, Nora?” Nick asked while they picked through dead raiders’ equipment. Nora stiffened, but she didn’t respond. “Never seen you wake up crying like that before. You got something on your mind, I’m always here for you.” He stopped gathering up spare ammo and bits of useful armor to look at her, and she looked back.

That honest, sunshine gaze cast upon her. It left no shadows and it left no area unexplored. Nora saw beyond him once more. “I’m in love with someone that I’m not sure loves me back. That’s all.”

“Now who in the hell would be stupid enough not to return a good thing like that?” Nick went back to examining their spoils. She watched as he scrutinized the ammo in his hands and dropped a couple rounds into Nora’s pack. That’s another thing she liked about him. Nick always said that they needed to conserve space for more important things. Nora needed food and water, but she always wanted to carry back as much ammo as possible for the Minutemen. Nick didn’t approve of her neglecting her own needs, but he respected it regardless and prioritized weapons and safety over Nora’s health.

He never argued with her about those sacrifices she made, unless she made them for him.

Nora approached, her fingers grazing over a burned bullet hole in Nick’s coat. He stopped moving to watch her with curious eyes. “Sensors aren’t picking up pain anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he reassured her. “It’s been a couple of weeks, anyway.”

“You were so mad at me for running across the street to get to you,” Nora said, remembering out loud. “Told me you’d survive if I left you there and I knew you would but I didn’t want you to hurt without me being there to help you through it.” Nick blinked slowly, and his chin tilted up slightly. Sudden suspicion, a hint of recognition. “We had super mutants closing in on us, but all I could think about was how to get us to safety so I could get that bullet out –”

“And it never occurred to you that maybe I was worried about you getting hurt, too?” asked Nick. Nora’s fingers stilled on his coat. She didn’t meet his gaze. “Hell, Nora. I’m not one of the synths who’ve been programmed to fall in love.”

Nora rested her forehead against his chest to steady herself against the spinning room. On the left side of her forehead, she could feel his skin give way to more wires. She felt as incomplete as he looked, and she’d felt so certain that they’d make a whole person together. Just wishful thinking – a lot like how she wished she could get Shaun back but knew it would never happen.

“’Course, I do a hell of a lot I’m not programmed to do, so I guess this is nothing new for me.” Nick sighed and ran his left hand through her hair. Nora pressed herself deeper into him until he wrapped both arms around her and held her until they melted into forever. Their own little mark on the universe, because how could machine and man ever create something of beauty in a world that liked to make it all so ugly?

That night, they found sanctuary in an abandoned trailer. Nora had always been a sucker for romance and Nick was especially good at it. If modern society allowed for it, he would wine and dine her in a heartbeat. Candles, rose petals, the whole nine yards. But instead he just massaged her neck while she pressed him against the closed door and kissed him. He pressed his lips against her cheeks to kiss the tears away and ran his metal fingers up the battle wounds of her arms like he savored every inch of the warrior within her. He reminded her that she was a fighter and that the shock of reality had strengthened her. He whispered to her that she was the biggest inspiration of his life, and that whenever he felt lost, he just had to look at her and see where he’d built his home. She cried again, and he still kept going. Kept worshiping the essence of Nora and saying all those things she needed to hear in order to feel human again.

“Programming be damned,” he said at last, “I’ve always been in love with you, from the moment you saved me when we first met.” Nora sighed into his cheek. He stroked hers with a metal finger as they swayed in each other’s arms. “Guess I’m a sucker for being saved by the damsel instead of doing the saving.” She laughed wetly, and he smiled in triumph against her temple. “Might just be a downfall of mine, not knowing what’s to act on until someone lays it out in the open for me to see. I’m sorry for making you wait so long, doll. Give an old synth the chance to make it up to you.” She turned her head, and he kissed her again.

Nick was a surprisingly gentle lover at first. The bare and exposed parts of him didn’t rub against her uncomfortably. He was very careful in how he moved against her. Though he lamented his lack of “equipment,” as he put it, Nora found that he was very talented with his synthetic fingers and tongue. And when he figured out that she liked the way his metal hand pressed hard into her thigh as she moaned, he let the digits scratch against her skin until she panted and red welts formed. Just as he’d been comfortable being gentle, Nick found was comfortable in knowing just how much pain to mix with pleasure. He was an exceptionally quick learner, but that might just be how synths processed things.

And Nora – Nora processed whatever she could about the situation, too. Like how Nick seemed to enjoy lying between her legs, hips working against hers just to hear her moan. The way he shivered when her fingers accidentally brushed against the exposed wire in his neck, and how he chuckled in dark appreciation when she reached up to do it again.

The orgasm was not as important to Nora as romance novels made her believe they ought to be. She could certainly achieve it, yes, but it wasn’t always the end goal for her. She liked feeling good and Nick gave that to her. Yes, she came; he kept his fingers working her until she came three times but it wasn’t important. And the way he talked, not only was he incapable of achieving an orgasm of his own but it wasn’t important to him either – because he wanted _this_. Someone to love and cherish him, and someone he could do the same for in return.

Nora gave him all of that and more. In a single night she had proven that she saw Nick as something no one else could find within him. Synths did not have souls. They were the sum of their parts – wires, fake organs, created flesh – and when you looked at a synth, that’s what you got. They were not emotions. They were not thoughts. They were none of these things that humans held so highly above all else. But when Nora touched him, she touched him like she looked at him – beyond everything that the rest of the world had built him up for. She gave him his own definition. And for the first time ever, lying in Nora’s arms, Nick came to an invaluable realization.

When a woman saw more than soul in you – when she saw sunrises in your eyes and caught ghosts of emotion in the twitch of your lips – you don’t take it for granted and act like you don’t notice it. As Nick ran his finger across the edge of Nora’s lower lip – as he watched her smile and shift in his arms to stretch out comfortably – he felt, for the first time, as if he were just as alive as humans had shamed him into believing he wasn’t.

_Nick Valentine was not synthetic._


End file.
